


Sonny Carisi’s Favorite Color

by FreckledSkittles



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Banter, Coworkers to lovers, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sappy Ending, Soulmates, Vignette, anything post-s17 is invalid i said what i said, its like one sentence of an orgasm, rafael barba and sonny carisi are losers in love and i love them, yeah lets make that a tag lmaooooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckledSkittles/pseuds/FreckledSkittles
Summary: When Rafael Barba filled his world with different colors, he was glad he had waited so long before understanding what “green” was.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63
Collections: Barisi Soulmate Bingo





	Sonny Carisi’s Favorite Color

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarahcakes613](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/gifts).



> Me??? Posting an Archive bingo at a reasonable time???? Unheard of, out of character, incomprehensible, and yet HERE I AM  
> For real though I have like two fics that I wanted to write for separate bingos but instead of making them short and under 5k I decided "you know what, this would be good to make l o n g e r" and then the other three just got held back bc I didn't think it would take so long 
> 
> Anyway, sarahcakes brought up a good idea for the prompt "only see in shades of soulmate's eyes" where seeing fruit in its "proper" color is super trippy, aaaaand looking back at that prompt, I....didn't really do what she suggested? Again, very on brand, but Sonny freaks out over a tomato and falls in love with granny smiths so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I got something in there!  
> Also this is a gift for her bc I greatly appreciate her and her kindness and idk how to tell that to ppl outside of writing them fics and gifting them so I hope you like this sarahcakes!! <3
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!!

The second that Sonny meets his soulmate, the world around him bursts.

What has been covered in shades of green since he was born is suddenly removed the second he makes contact with the most beautiful pair of eyes he’s ever viewed. Sonny was always captivated with the shades of color around him, embracing them and accepting the olives and emeralds and peridots. Once he met his soulmate, he might not get a chance to view them again.

But he was wrong, because as the green is drained from Sonny’s world, it spirals and is contained in Rafael Barba’s eyes. Sharp at the edges but smooth on the sides, they pulse with light and gleam with a daring urge to test him. Sonny wants to obey the warning and trash it all in one breath.

If only he got the chance. At the same time that Sonny’s world blooms with color, Rafael Barba’s was doing the same. Sonny doesn’t look at his face for a reaction, because Barba’s tie has a checkered sort of pattern and the color is…purple? At least it looks like it; he never could separate blue and purple from the green tint over it.

Sonny finally looks up when he hears Barba sigh. “That mustache is worse in color.”

Sonny is left flabbergasted, mouth gaping, as Barba turns to the TV and resumes whatever squad debriefing he had been in before they met.

For the following months, Sonny will be convinced that Rafael Barba does not have feelings for him. Soulmate rejection wasn’t uncommon, especially in their line of work, but he never thought it could happen to him. At least not like this, and not when he still had to work with him.

* * *

Molly Rosenbaum was the first person Sonny kissed. He remembers knowing they weren’t soulmates and it’s one of the few relationships he was in that ended with both parties separating amicably. But she was cute, and they were both teenagers exploring themselves, and he didn’t have any idea what he was doing. The one thing he did know was this his soulmate—whoever they were—had green eyes.

There is a legend that has been around for years that the colors of a person’s world were the hues of their soulmate’s eyes until they met. Only then would their world expand with lights and colors that were inaccessible beforehand. Some people live with colors their whole lives and never find their soulmate who caused it; others live in the same hue for their lifetime; not everyone chooses to remain with their soulmate, while others reject them. Sonny dreams of the day he’ll see the world in what some call its proper coloring: the waves of black, the swarms of red, the dots of blues, and all the shades he knew the names of but couldn’t properly identify in his green-tinted view.

Molly was cute, but her eyes were brown according to her and her mother. Sonny’s parents had told him that his were blue, whatever that meant. It was difficult to decipher what colors belonged where when he didn’t have anything to compare them with. As a kid, he only knew the vibrant shades around him that intensified when he looked at the grass or would shine in the threads of the clothes he saw spread around Irish neighborhoods in the middle of March. His parents called it “green,” but the word was devoid of any meaning for him.

When Rafael Barba filled his world with different colors, he was glad he had waited so long before understanding what “green” was. His sisters would say that the color they knew for so long would be drowned out when he finally discovered what it was. But Sonny couldn’t get enough of green. He loves the different shades, the flickering hues, the only color he was allowed to view the world in until he met his soulmate. For a long time, it remained his favorite color.

Until it wasn’t.

* * *

Sonny and Barba—because soulmates or not, they have a work relationship already established—decide to take it slow. They make a deal to talk outside of work about where to progress. Sonny is eager to talk to Barba—Rafael, technically, but when he first said his name, Barba flinched and asked to continue using his last name—but he has to remind himself to keep his expectations low. There is no guarantee either of them will want to proceed as soulmates. Sonny has always dreamed about living with his soulmate and sharing special touches, living in the remnants of the green their eyes contain and sharing gentle kisses and passionate touches, but there’s a possibility neither of them will be interested.

“Thank you for shaving your mustache,” Barba says on their afternoon meet-up, sitting outside of a coffee shop. It’s not a date, but it’s not work-related. They are simply two people meeting up for coffee to talk and nothing else.

Sonny offers a nervous laugh and shrugs. It had taken a bit of a fight to get Barba to deal with the fact that he would be paying for their coffee as a courtesy. Sonny forced himself to not linger too long on his face. He missed looking at the shades of green that are all but contained in Barba’s eyes. “Were you offended by it or something?” He asks with a teasing tone. “What’d it ever do to you?”

Barba scoffs past a sip of coffee. “It grew in the first place. If there are lessons on how to properly grow a mustache, you should take them.”

Sonny smirks at that, and he can’t resist the sudden urge to banter back with him. “I’ll let you know if I ever need to fulfill a 70s stereotype of gay men.”

“Duly noted, Freddie Mercury.” Barba rotates the hand protector on his coffee and gives a quiet hum. “So. It’s been a few weeks since we made our…discovery. I think we’ve done a decent job at making sure we separate it from our professional relationship.”

Sonny just nods, not wanting to interrupt whatever stream of consciousness Barba’s going off of. His legs start to jitter under the table in nervous excitement.

“I don’t want to put words in your mouth, but,” he sighs, leaning back in his chair, “I haven’t been able to definitively say if we should…proceed as soulmates.”

“Oh.” Sonny was expecting much worse to come from a conversation like this, but he sees nothing wrong with that line of reasoning. Even if it means delaying what he’s dreamed about for years. “No, I get that. We’ve only known each other for, what, three weeks?”

“Give or take.” Barba relaxes in his chair. He must have had his own concerns for this conversation. “Which might make meeting up for coffee pointless, if you ask me.”

Sonny shrugs. “I think it’s worth it. We’re getting on the same page, right?”

“Right…” They fall silent for a moment, Sonny fidgeting in his spot and Barba focusing on his coffee with a burning intensity. For a second, it looks like they’ve reached a standstill, but Barba renews the conversation with a clearing of his throat. “Well, since we’re here, maybe we can work with something.”

“Yeah?”

Barba nods. “Since we both agree we can’t make a decision on our soulmate status, let’s give it a year and see what happens. If we feel the same as we do today, we’ll stay as coworkers. If something has changed, we’ll talk about it then.”

Sonny thinks about it before he gives a response. The most he knows about Rafael Barba outside of work is that Sonny is his soulmate. It sounds illogical to make a decision on their relationship and to rush one another into something they aren’t prepared for. They’ve gone on for their entire lives—and in Rafael’s case, almost ten extra years—without one another. One more year to decide where they go is not a problem.

With that conclusion, Sonny offers Barba a smile. He notes the small hitch of breath Barba utters. “I like that. In one year, we can come back here and decide what to do from there.”

“Then it’s settled.” Barba holds out his hand for Sonny to shake. His palm is warm and soft against his. “One year.”

* * *

It takes six months for Sonny and Barba to break their one-year pact. Sonny had thought it would have taken at least ten, but he underestimated Barba’s insistence.

It started at work: Barba would make a snide comment, Sonny would respond with equal ardor, and they would share jabs equally piercing and defiant. It evolved into a deeper understanding of one another: Sonny shared insight, Barba entertained the idea, and they would share a look of respect and a growing urge to talk more. The third stage was their undoing: Sonny delivered some papers, Barba offered a coffee, and they made out behind one of the courthouse pillars. Their employers are lucky they have more work to do; otherwise, they would have retreated to one of their apartments and take full advantage of each other’s mouths and hands.

Barba kisses with firm hands that lock onto Sonny’s waist and lead him against the granite column. His tongue is as eager and quick as it is when he speaks, thoroughly prodding against his lips. Sonny just barely matches the enthusiasm but accepts the ministrations instead, sagging against the column and sighing into the kiss. His fingers scramble to hold onto the lapels of Barba’s jacket to center himself, but the longer the kiss goes on, the more Sonny dives deeper. Barba, unsurprisingly, is very persuasive.

There were stories of soulmates’ vision temporarily reverting the world to the color their world had been in before. No one in Sonny’s family, as far as he knew, had ever experienced it. He had only ever heard of it happening from others. But later that night, when he’s engulfed with the roaring heat of Barba’s body and his thighs, his world bleeds green like a kaleidoscope. Jades and emeralds and forest hues surround him, tangling over Barba’s skin and folding through his hair. When he comes, the green reverts back into Barba’s eyes, enhancing them even more than before. Sonny dives into his neck to stifle the deep moan that erupts from his chest.

Barba and Sonny spend the rest of their night talking, sharing their past relationships and their views on soulmates. At first, Sonny is surprised to hear about Barba’s reluctance to engage in the owner of the blue world he familiarized himself with. But as they chat more, he can understand the hesitance; his partner shouldn’t be pre-determined or defined by the aspects of their physical characteristics.

“I think if my soulmate was anyone else,” Barba—Rafael whispers, “I wouldn’t be so accepting of it.”

“What a compliment,” Sonny teases, jabbing Rafael’s side playfully. He ducks into Rafael’s line of view with a soft smile. “If it wasn’t me, your soulmate would be the luckiest person alive.”

Rafael smirks at him and tilts his head. “So what does that make you?”

“Mm, I dunno. We should talk about that.”

Rafael swats at him and gives him a soft smile. Sonny’s heart swells at the sight; his love for this man is alive and well, and it glows green.

* * *

“Tomatoes!”

He can hear Rafael raising his brow and the little cock of his head over the phone. “ _ What about them? _ ”

“Have you seen them?” Sonny is at the market with a basket on one arm and two reusable bags already full of groceries on the other. While one hand holds his phone at his ear, the other grips a tomato. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of the red surface, the shine of the curve reflecting the blue of his eyes back to him. “They’re super red.”

Rafael snorts. “ _ Wait until you see fire. I hear it’s very red. _ ”

“Make fun of me all you want, this looks amazing.” Sonny bags three of the reddest ones he can find, forcing himself not to pick up each one and examine them up close.

“ _ When I said you could make dinner for me, I thought we agreed to dating one another, not our favorite fruit. _ ”

“If that’s your idea of comedy,” Sonny teases, “you should keep your day job.”

“ _ Thanks for the advice. _ ” Sonny’s eyes fall on a group of granny smith apples—he never realized how green they were. In comparison to the tomatoes, or even the red apples beside them, the granny smiths are a bitter shade to match their taste. Sonny is enchanted with them and bags two of the best-looking ones. “ _ When are you getting back? We can talk about different shades of purple while you make dinner. _ ”

Sonny rolls his eyes at the snarky remark. “Alright, I get it, I’m still not used to colors that aren’t green.”

“ _ I mean, it’s been almost a year since we met and you’re still shocked by them. _ ”

“I lived without colors for over thirty-five years, how am I supposed to react?”

Rafael falls silent, and Sonny almost asks if the line went dead before his boyfriend’s voice returns. “ _ Have you never taken a color theory course? Or studied colors? Sonny, _ ” his voice hardens with dwindling hope, “ _ please tell me you have. _ ”

Sonny and Rafael, after six months of a relationship that deepened quicker than they anticipated, agreed that it would be better—or, at the very least, more satisfying—to try out dating instead of waiting for six more months like they had initially planned. Aside from the disclosure papers they had to sign and the care they took on cases that either of them took on, the biggest change to their relationship were the nights they reserved for date night and learning more than their work allowed. Like Sonny’s fascination with soulmate-related laws or Rafael’s determination to learn colors other than the blue of Sonny’s eyes.

So when Sonny admits, albeit reluctantly, to not having much experience with different colors or their labels, Rafael has a display of five different swatches of at least seven different colors to comb through while Sonny makes dinner. He might not retain much of it, but Sonny appreciates the sound of Rafael’s voice indicating each color and its several different meanings and why, no, his salmon tie is not the same pink as his rose-colored one. Or how, yes, the colors he paired together for his wardrobe were important decisions and not random choices. Sonny asks if he can plan Rafael’s outfits for the week; Rafael glares him down until Sonny swoops in with bubbles of laughter and a swarm of apologetic kisses to make up for the insult.

It feels right to be with Rafael. This, their relationship, their banter, their time together, brings more light to Sonny’s life than he could have ever predicted.

* * *

It’s been a long day.

Sonny can tell Rafael is nearing the end of his career at the Manhattan DA’s office. His performance in cases aren’t affected, but his attitude outside of court is definitely obvious. A heavy weight lingers on his shoulders when he comes home. A year and a half into their relationship and Sonny can read the signs that he is nearing the end of his ADA tenure. They talk about it sometimes, when Rafael’s limbs are too tired to do anything else but wrap around Sonny’s hips and each breath released is weighted. But even with their soulmate status, Rafael is painfully private about his struggles. Whether he’s ashamed or afraid of what will happen if he’s honest, Sonny remains dedicated to supporting his partner no matter what.

In this particular case, SVU had found enough evidence to force the defense’s hand and make their client plead guilty the day before summations were delivered. But even then, Rafael’s usual confidence and swagger were dulled. Sonny’s heart ached for how foreign it was. He didn’t play into the compliments thrown his way, he kept his interviews with the press brief, and he barely played into the defense’s prodding for verbal sparring once the plea was entered. Sonny stayed by him even with the insistence that he was alright. His eyes were always the best way for him to communicate, and Sonny had familiarized himself with that color and those expressions. Even if his words were assuring, he still wanted Sonny nearby.

“Have you ever thought about what’ll happen when you’ve finished up at SVU?” Rafael mumbles, barely heard in the whisper of darkness around their bedroom. It’s only been a few months in their new apartment together, but the emptiness of his voice is as barren as their bedroom was on their first night there.

“Sometimes,” Sonny hums. “One of these days, I hope I can make some use out of my law degree.” Rafael makes a gruff sound akin to agreement and Sonny shifts under the covers to better look at him. “What’re you thinking about?”

Rafael glances up at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Sonny, his heart twisting at the sight, is already holding his cheek in preparation to stop their fall. “I’m tired. It’s starting to pain me just to walk into the courthouse. It doesn’t feel the same anymore, and I don’t know why.”

“You’ve been an ADA for years,” Sonny points out, “between two different boroughs. It’s burnout, Raf.” He presses a firm kiss to his forehead before continuing; “It’s natural to feel like this.”

“Is it?” Rafael rolls over so that he’s on his stomach and he presses his hand into the center of Sonny’s chest. “How many people do you hear about getting into a life-altering crisis like this and not being able to pull themselves out of it?”

“It happens, but,” he offers a cautious smile that comes off as a grimace, “they usually commit crimes to get out of their shitty situation.”

Rafael bows his head so that his temple connects with Sonny’s collarbone. Sonny leans forward to press another kiss to the top of his head. “I’m not that desperate. I’m just lost.”

“We can look at options this weekend. Your career as a prosecutor is bound to earn you something good.”

For a second, Sonny thinks he’s fallen asleep. But Rafael’s voice returns, this time with a bit more of its typical spark. “Abuelita used to say I would become a judge.”

Sonny snorts. “You’re too biased for that.”

“That’s what my mother said. And I agree with her. But…” Sonny feels Rafael curl his hands into fists. “I can’t step away from the law. It’s given me so much already. I’ve enjoyed being an ADA, for the most part. I have experience with different counties and different mayors.”

“You met me.” Sonny adds it as a joke, anything to get Rafael to smile, but he ends up laughing himself. Rafael just scoffs, the corners of his lips twitching.

“Well, since you said it, I don’t have to bring it up.” He chuckles at Sonny’s grin, but it dies down as quickly as it arrived. “I feel like if I step away from practicing law, I’d leave behind a large chunk of myself, and I don’t know what to do with the part that’s left if that happens.”

“I mean,” Sonny muses, already thinking of ways to turn this out for the better, “you don’t have to stop practicing it entirely. Just…repurpose how you use it.”

Rafael doesn’t understand what he means until they comb through the latest job offerings at the various law schools in New York City—including Fordham, though Sonny added that as a joke, even if Rafael eyed it seriously for a few good minutes. When a new change presents itself, they do their best to adapt and adjust to it so they can move on unscathed. Sonny is glad they have each other for companionship.

* * *

Another year passes for ADA Barba to become Professor Barba and earn a license to teach in the State of New York. In that time, Sonny has his own career crisis and puts in an application to become an ADA at the end of the summer. He has renewed his license each year since passing the bar, and each time he’s surprised with his ability to not fail it. Rafael says it’s due to how much he undermines his own talents, but Sonny is occupied with kissing his neck a thousand times to hear it properly.

They share a first day at their new jobs: Rafael as an instructor in criminal law for Columbia, and Sonny as junior ADA for New York County. Rafael brews their coffee while Sonny grabs the newspaper at the bodega on the corner. And when he returns, he takes in the sight of Rafael, dressed as nicely as ever and as stereotypically college professor as one can get. It’s been a few years since they discovered they were soulmates, but Sonny has yet to get used to the experience of waking up to his soulmate and falling asleep to the sound of gentle snoring.

For a moment, the world recedes in color and shades over in green hues. Sonny is startled with how much it covers their apartment, his hands, the walls and the floor, but it seeps over Rafael like waves. Different shades pulse in and out of visibility: forest greens and shining jades flicker across the pink of his shirt, the sky blue of his tie; his hair, speckled with thin strands of gray, shines in emerald.

Green is no longer Sonny’s favorite color. Green is in the fresh basil on their terrace. It’s held within the pistachio ice cream they shared last night that sits in the fridge. It billows on the stems of flowers outside of floral shops. His favorite color is the one in Rafael’s arms when he embraces him, the strength of his torso and the meat of his thighs, the one that shines when he laughs and glows when he smiles. The very essence of Rafael Barba that he is blessed to wake up to and lucky to sleep alongside.

“Marry me.”

Rafael smiles, and the world around them burns brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't gonna put an end note here but when adding the tags I just realized I didn't add in a typical Mike Dodds cameo???? please escort me out of the building I have broken the law


End file.
